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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27161170">suddenly grown green</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/clachnaben/pseuds/clachnaben'>clachnaben</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Tortall - Tamora Pierce</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Established Relationship, Friendship, Gen, Open Relationships, Polyamory, Relationship Negotiation, Slice of Life</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 07:15:43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,091</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27161170</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/clachnaben/pseuds/clachnaben</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Daine woke up early, to the sound of Numair snoring and the familiar, annoying feeling of her mouth full of his hair. She blew it out with a huff, and Numair made a sleepy sound and rolled over, the messy cloud of his hair going with him, leaving a warm space in the bed behind him. There was sunlight coming through the cracks in the closed shutters, and Daine could hear the palace sparrows outside shrieking about how it was the morning, the sun was up, the humans should also be up.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jonathan of Conté/Thayet jian Wilima, Numair Salmalín/Veralidaine Sarrasri</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>35</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>suddenly grown green</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cesy/gifts">Cesy</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>set vaguely during the first few years of Kel’s page-hood. includes characters discussing open relationships</p><p>Thank you to my betas <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/anoneknewmoose">anoneknewmoose</a> and <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/bleedsgolden/pseuds/ahhcherontia">ahhcherontia</a></p><p>This was written as a gift for Equality Auction 2020. Thank you so much to cesy for making a really generous donation to a charity fighting for racial justice.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Daine woke up early, to the sound of Numair snoring and the familiar, annoying feeling of her mouth full of his hair. She blew it out with a huff, and Numair made a sleepy sound and rolled over, the messy cloud of his hair going with him, leaving a warm space in the bed behind him. There was sunlight coming through the cracks in the closed shutters, and Daine could hear the palace sparrows outside shrieking about how it was the morning, the sun was up, the humans should also be up. She didn’t necessarily agree. Numair kept academic hours, when they were at the palace, and she’d grown used to sleeping late with him. It didn’t matter to her whether she was in the palace or out in the country on assignment; she kept odd hours. There was no other way to both speak to the night birds and animals and travel with the early morning scavengers. </p><p>Numair, when there wasn’t an immediate magical emergency or ongoing war, slept like the dead. Daine had no compunctions about opening the shutters and letting the early morning light in. A handful of the sparrows that lived around the palace flew in, made a quick exploration of their bedroom, and then flew out again. A battered-looking pigeon flapped down from an overhang to perch on the windowsill and she reached into the box under the window to spread some seed and scraps on the window. She always saved some food if she could, to share in the morning, especially through the winter when every animal in the city made do with slim pickings. </p><p>“How is everyone this fine morning?” she asked, as the sparrows, blue tits, and a family of goldfinches descended. Autumn would soon turn to winter, but the morning was clear and bright, the sun warm on her skin. The sparrows said the babies of spring were now fully grown, and would soon have to consider a flock of their own. The goldfinches were planning to winter further south, and would leave the palace in the next few weeks. The solitary pigeon, his voice old and creaky like a grandfather, berated them for not having left sooner, for surely all the good winter perches would be taken. </p><p>Daine smiled listening to them gossip, and left the shutters open while she went to find something to wear. Her skin rose up in goosebumps from the cold air, and when she looked over at the bed, Numair had one eye cracked open, peering over the covers. </p><p>“It’s cold,” he said thickly, still half asleep. </p><p>Daine laughed, rolling on her breast band. </p><p>“You’re turning into a soft southerner again,” she said. “It’s barely autumn.”</p><p>“Come back to bed,” he said, trying to plead with her, pushing his hair back off his face. The sheet slipped down his chest, exposing his collarbones, the tufts of his chest hair and the skin underneath, paler now winter was approaching. She padded over, still in her bare feet and bent to kiss his forehead, one of his hands snaking around her hip, trying to pull her in. </p><p>“I’m meeting George this morning, and Thayet after that,” she said. “And you are teaching. I’m not getting back in bed, we won’t get up again.”</p><p>Numair huffed grumpily, and rolled over, trying to pull her into an embrace.</p><p>“Get a young wife, everyone says,” he said, joking, his face split by a grin. “She’ll laze around with you and keep you young. I didn’t realise mine was going to be a taskmaster.”</p><p>“I’m not your wife yet,” Daine said, laughing as Numair pulled her down for a kiss. “You’ll have to ask me first. Maybe I can laze around once I’m a married woman, and my husband can provide for me.”</p><p>“Hmmm,” Numair hummed, rolling away finally and rubbing at his eyes, raising an eyebrow at her. “Maybe we shouldn’t get married then, if it means I have to do an honest day's work. How do you feel about being a juggler’s wife instead?” </p><p>Daine went back to dressing, and stuck her tongue out at him. </p><p>“The king would drag you back kicking and screaming the whole way,” she said, both of them smiling. “Or Alanna would chase you down and smack you over the head with her sword.”</p><p>Numair propped himself up on one hand, watching her dress with warm eyes. Daine had always had a vague idea that passion in a relationship would diminish over time, and that, somehow, seeing Numair’s body, kissing him, would become so normal she’d forget how it thrilled her. But it had been several years now, living together in, technically, Numair’s academic rooms, sleeping in the same bed, going out on assignment or with the Queen’s Riders together, and, still, even simple things like dressing in the morning, the shadow of Numair’s breast bone, felt warm and precious. </p><p>“Speaking of Alanna,” he said, shaking her from her moment of watching him. “Is she coming to the palace with George? I haven’t seen her since-”</p><p>“I think she’s still avoiding the palace,” Daine said absently, tucking her shirt into her breeches. “But I’ll ask him.”</p><p>“Give him my love,” Numair said, rolling over to paw at the pile of books on his side of the bed. She knew he’d read for at least another hour, until the noise in the hall reminded him that he was supposed to be getting ready to teach. </p><p>“Don’t forget about your classes,” she said, picking up a wrapped scroll of notes she’d made for George over the last month. “I’m not explaining to Reed why the pages can’t tell a hedgewitch from a mage.” </p><p>“Mmmhmm,” Numair said, already distracted by his book, and when Daine finally left their rooms the door closed on her final view of Numair, chest bare, a goldfinch inspecting the sheets, his focus entirely on the book in his hand. She smiled as she walked the palace hallways, fixing the image in her mind. She liked the memories of Numair that she knew only she had; the most powerful mage in all the Western Lands letting a goldfinch search his hair for crumbs, his face in sleep, the distracted way he would look up from a book. All those images were just for her. </p><p>George’s office was in a nondescript corner of the palace, surrounded on all sides by administrative offices. The door had a grubby label pinned to the door, nearly illegible, saying merely that it was occupied, with no indication that the man inside was dangerous, or a spy, or even a lord. She knocked once, a quick rap on the door, and pushed it over even as she heard George’s familiar voice shout “come in!” from inside. </p><p>“Ah, the Wildmage!” George said, getting up from behind his desk. He was wearing plain breeches and a shirt old enough to be fraying at the cuffs. His hair was greying at the temples, but he was still staggeringly handsome, with a dazzling, charming smile, the kind her mother would have told her to watch herself around. He didn’t even pause as he came around the desk, just wrapped her in a tight bear hug, nearly lifting her off the ground. She laughed and batted at his shoulder. </p><p>“Good to see you too,” she said, smiling, and let him pour her a glass of water. “How is exile treating you?”</p><p>He made a face. </p><p>“I’ve been trying to get Alanna and the king to talk it out, but they’re both stubborn as rocks,” he said. “I’ve half a mind to kidnap them and throw them in a cell until they work it out.”</p><p>Daine snorted. </p><p>“You’d be beheaded for treason,” she said with a smirk.. George tipped his head, giving her a mock serious expression. </p><p>“Aye,” he said. “But it’d be worth it.”</p><p>They both laughed, and George flicked his fingers over to his pile of paperwork. </p><p>“Sorry to make it about work,” he said, and Daine waved his apology away. </p><p>“It’s important,” she said, and reached into her pocket to pull out the report she’d scribbled up. “I talked to the migratory birds when I was in the south a few weeks ago, and it’s a bit hard to make them think like two-leggers do about distances but I think I’ve got most of the last-known positions of the pirate fleets. Poor Kaddar, they pop up as soon as he can put them down.”</p><p>“Poor Kaddar, more like poor us if any of them come raiding this winter,” he said. “You think you’ve got the positions?”</p><p>Daine handed over the report and George smoothed it out, peering at Daine’s rough drawing of the Carthaki coast line. </p><p>“You’ll need someone from the Navy to look them over, but I did the best I could,” she said, and made an apologetic face. “Birds don’t understand when I ask them about the difference between different two-legger ships, but they described them as best they could.”</p><p>George folded the report up and tucked it into the pile of his work. </p><p>“I’ll have my contact in the Navy take a look, anything is better than the nothing we had before,” he said. “Thank your friends for us.”</p><p>Daine’s expression twisted. </p><p>“They think it’s interesting, to try and spot the ships,” she said. “Some of them can make the connection, that if the towns on the south coast are raided it’ll be slimmer pickings from our middens, but it’s still not really their fight.”</p><p>“I’ll send a note for all my spies on the south coast to carry extra seed and fruit for the birds,” George said. “Never say I don’t pay my agents.”</p><p>Daine smiled. George always had an unexpectedly big heart. </p><p>“How’s our favorite forgetful mage?” George said, leaning back in his chair, business dispensed with. </p><p>“He sends his love,” Daine said. “He was asking after Alanna.”</p><p>George’s face fell, almost comically. </p><p>“You’ll have to come out to see us, since I can’t get her to the palace for love nor money,” he said. </p><p>“Numair won’t finish teaching till the pages’ summer trip,” Daine said regretfully. George ran a hand through his hair. </p><p>“Ah, summer, the season my lady wife enjoys for riding around the country finding someone to stick her pointy sword in,” he said, too fondly to be sarcastic. </p><p>“I’ll talk to Numair, maybe we can come visit later in the spring?” Daine said, and George smiled. </p><p>“I hope so, it’ll be a tough winter cooped up with the Lioness when she’s holding a grudge,” he said. “I think it’ll be at least another six months before either of them bend even a little.”</p><p>“The king won’t apologise?” Daine asked. George propped his chin on his hand, looking nostalgic. </p><p>“I doubt it,” he said. “I’d say I know Jon just about as well as is possible, and he’s as stubborn as they come. Kings have to be, but he was that way even before the old peace-maker died.”</p><p>He was quiet for a moment, and then shook himself. </p><p>“Enough of my reminiscing,” he said, his face sliding easily into a smile. “I’ll be travelling the next few months, but you can write to me at Pirate’s Swoop. Will you have any more reports?”</p><p>Daine stood, catching the hint that their chat was over, and straightened her shirt. </p><p>“Most of the migratory birds will be leaving soon, but I’ll ask them to bring me anything they see. Be warned, it might just be gossip about the best breeding sites.”</p><p>George reached out and clasped her hand in his, warm and calloused. </p><p>“I’m sure we can find a way to use that to our advantage,” he said, with one of his sly smiles, and Daine laughed before she left, closing the nondescript door behind her softly, leaving George to his reports and codes. </p><p>The palace had come fully awake while she’d been shut away, and the hallways were now busy. Daine sunk into the crowd, barely getting more than a handful of glances. Everyone at the palace was used to working among mages and soldiers, no one even looked at her twice. </p><p>She wandered down to the stables, stopping on her way at the serving hall where the palace scholars ate to pick up a roll and a few apples for Cloud. Stefan gave her a wave when she ducked through his part of the stables on the way to the Queen’s Riders horses, where Cloud stayed. </p><p><i>You smell like paper</i> Cloud said grumpily. </p><p>“I live with an academic. It can’t be helped,” Daine said, leaning against the wall of Cloud’s stall. Stefan knew Cloud well enough that Cloud’s stall door was never closed. She fished an apple out of her pocket, and Cloud lipped at her hand as she crunched it down, her tail twitching. Daine took her time brushing her down, both of them talking in their familiar way, half-aloud and half in Daine’s head, half in the particular speech of the People, half in the way Cloud stamped her foot or flicked her mane. They knew each other better than family, more than siblings. </p><p>She heard footsteps outside the stall, and then Onua leaned against the wooden wall, a horse bridle draped over her arm. </p><p>“I thought I might find you here,” she said.</p><p>“Cloud would let me know if I skimped,” Daine said, hanging the brush up. Onua extended the bridle out to her. </p><p>“You wanna come and meet your friend for today?” she asked, as Daine took it from her. </p><p><i>Sorry</i>, Daine said quietly, mind-to-mind. Cloud snorted and shook her head. </p><p><i>I don’t want to try keeping up with those stallions anyway</i>, she said, as close to permission as Daine was going to get from her. </p><p>The horse Onua had chosen for her was a dashing chestnut mare called Ginger, with a happy spirit. Daine brushed her down and asked her about the other horses in the Riders’ stable, and by the time Daine had her tacked up they’d reached a mutual, happy agreement. Daine let her take the lead as they trotted up to the queen’s riding party, Thayet at the head of a group of Riders and her close handmaids, Buri at her side. </p><p>“Ah, Daine,” Thayet said, turning from her conversation. “I think that’s all of us.”</p><p>Thayet’s horse was a sleek black stallion Daine knew well from riding alongside the queen. She knew most of the other horses in the party and greeted them politely, letting Ginger lead her to a gentle walk beside the queen. Thayet was dressed for riding, but still recognisably the queen, her flowing shirt covered in an overcoat of deep blue. They were friends, and Daine had shed a lot of her nervousness around royalty over the last several years, but, occasionally, Thayet would turn and catch the light and Daine would be reminded how she was so nearly painfully beautiful. Against the light autumn sky, her hair shimmered like a raven’s wing, and her skin nearly glowed in the contrast. When Thayet turned, she smiled, the expression moving her face from statue-like elegance to the friend Daine had known for years. </p><p>“Gods, it’s good to get out of the palace,” she said. “It’ll be too cold to get outside in a few months, and I’m dreading it.”</p><p>“Not looking for a Midwinter sweetheart?” Daine said jokingly, and Thayet laughed. </p><p>“No, but I have been working on Buri for months now,” she said, and hearing her name, Buri let her horse trot to catch up. </p><p>“Are you enlisting Daine in your plan of torture?” Buri said. “I’m telling you, I’m not going to any of your horrible parties. If you try, I’ll run off and find a Spidren den to fight. I don’t want to settle down with any lordling.”</p><p>Thayet didn’t seem perturbed by that.</p><p>“I’ve been telling you,” she said peaceably, as they entered the shade of the Royal Forest. “You don’t have to settle down with any of them. Just find someone sensible and have a perfectly respectable affair.”</p><p>“I think some people would quibble with you about 'respectable',” Buri said, with one eyebrow raised. Daine hid her smile behind her hand. Buri’s sense of humour always got to her. </p><p>“I’m sure you could find someone respectable, Buri,” Daine said, falsely sweet. Buri glared at her. </p><p>“Not you too. Why don’t you go find a lover then, if you’re so keen on it?” she said. </p><p>“I think I already have one, technically,” Daine said, making Buri snort. </p><p>“Are you still not thinking of marriage?” Thayet asked, and Daine thought about it for a second. She had thought, at first, that she would eventually want it, that it would seem like the logical next step. But she and Numair had been lovers for a few years, and they lived together, made love, and passed their time together much as they ever had. She didn’t think a marriage would strengthen or change the deep well of love she felt. </p><p>“We’re happy as we are,” Daine said. </p><p>“Well, you tell me if you want me to ask Jon to order him to ask,” Thayet said, with a smile on her face. “I think he can still do that.”</p><p>“Very generous, your majesty,” Daine said primly, and Thayet snorted, so suddenly unladylike it nearly, but not quite, broke the spell of her beauty. </p><p>“I think Daine’s out-doing you with the lovers,” Thayet said, to Buri. “Or, well, lover, I suppose.”</p><p>“I hardly think that counts,” Buri said. “Some of us aren’t layabout royalty who can afford to have lovers you know, some of us have responsibilities.”</p><p>“Layabout!” Thayet said, playfully stung. “My greatest friend in the world, I just want her to find love, and she calls me a layabout! Can you believe this, Daine?”</p><p>Daine had to cover her mouth so stop herself from giggling and ruining the game. </p><p>“No, your majesty,” she said, falsely prim. Buri and Thayet had a relationship she recognised from the sisters she’d known. They knew how to laugh at each other. </p><p>“I’ll tell Daine all about your lovers, and then you’ll be in trouble for scandalising a poor country girl, you know,” Buri said. Thayet snorted, and Buri finally cracked when she saw Daine’s expression. </p><p>“God, you know I got a lecture about how I’m a role model for the maidens of the land, from that stick-in-the-mud Groten last week? Apparently my womanly virtue leads by example,” Thayet said. Buri made a face.</p><p>“You mean Ansil? I think I saw him get knocked off his horse this summer, at the tourney. Good thing he doesn’t know what you get up with Osanna haMinch, I suppose,” Buri said. </p><p>“Osanna and I aren’t getting up to anything,” Thayet said primly. “She’s getting married in the spring. It’s a very good match.” She paused. “We did have fun though.”</p><p>Buri shrugged. </p><p>“I liked her. Only one of your handmaids I’ve ever seen keep up with you on a horse,” she said. </p><p>“Obviously, I liked her too,” Thayet said, and Buri rolled her eyes. </p><p>“I don’t know why you’re harping at me about finding someone. You have no romance in your soul,” she said, but it was fond enough to be a joke. </p><p>“I have plenty of romance! Osanna and I didn’t <i>want</i> romance, we wanted to have a perfectly nice time together without worrying about getting pregnant. Which is exactly what we did. Besides, Jon is romantic enough for the two of us,” she said, clearly turning back to her favorite subject. “Which is why I want to set you up with someone. Everyone deserves some fun and some romance, Buri.”</p><p>“Well, I like men, for my sins. And there aren’t any conveniently single handsome kings kicking around for me, at the moment,” Buri said, clearly trying to head off the discussion. </p><p>“If you want a <i>king</i> you should have <i>said</i>,” Thayet said, and Buri barked a single ha of laughter. </p><p>“Horse lords, Thayet, mercy! I surrender! I will come to exactly <i>one</i> party, if that gets you off my case,” Buri said, raising her hands. “No kings, no one who hasn’t worked in the last year, and no one who’s going to try and made me retire.”</p><p>Thayet grinned like a cat who’d got the cream. </p><p>“As if I’d suggest a conservative. I’ll suggest someone nice, you’ll see,” she said, and made eye contact with Daine, raising her eyebrows, inviting her into the victory. </p><p>“I’ve never seen a siege end that quickly,” Daine said, and Buri ran a hand over her face. </p><p>“This is what you get when you let your best friend become queen,” she said. “They think they can do anything.”</p><p>“Don’t be silly,” Thayet said, flicking her reins. “I was always like this.”</p><p>They made both Buri and Daine laugh, and it was easy to spend the rest of the ride gossiping about their friends and changes at the palace, until Thayet, itching to ride properly, proposed races. Buri and Daine both turned her down, and watched the races, Thayet’s face lit with the joy of riding. They rode home together tired and sore and still laughing, talking all the way, even as they brushed down the horses. A few grooms hovered in the periphery, watching Thayet nervously. </p><p>There was a flurry of activity outside, and then Jonathan strode through the stable doors, at least two clerks trailing him with harried expressions. </p><p>“Yes, yes,” he was saying, in even tones that barely hid his frustration. “I understand that, but I’d like to kiss my wife now, I’m sure we can spare a moment for that.”</p><p>“Oh can we?” Thayet said, turning from his horse, brush still in hand. “You know I won’t let you cause the downfall of the realm like this, darling.”</p><p>Several of the clerks tittered. Jonathan smiled, his sharply handsome face captivating.</p><p>“It would be worth it,” he said, and bent over her hand like a suitor, even though it still had the horse brush in it. Daine had seen Thayet smile for the court, beautiful but lifeless, or for her friends, warm and charming, but her smile for Jonathan was something completely different, filtered through the years of loving, a queen smiling to her king, a wife smiling to her husband, a woman smiling to the man she loved. </p><p>“You’re trying to charm me,” Thayet said, like she disapproved but was still, against her best intentions, charmed. Jonathan smiled up at her, and Daine, watching, felt charmed, even just by the secondary effect of his smile. He really was devastatingly handsome. Together, they made a pair beautiful enough to make anyone sigh. She could feel herself sighing, just a little bit.</p><p>“Is it working?” Jon said, his eyes sparkling. Thayet visibly thawed. </p><p>“A little,” she said, and Jon’s handsome smile split into a boyish grin. </p><p>“Well then,” he said, his voice warm. “Time well spent.”</p><p>He swept out in another flurry of activity, already debating furiously with one of the clerks. Thayet looked over at Daine. </p><p>“I told you he was romantic,” she said, and Daine laughed when she saw Buri roll her eyes behind Thayet’s back. </p><p>She took a detour via Onua’s rooms on her way back to the palace, to chat about horses, Onua’s opinion of the new recruits, her thoughts for ponies she’d purchase in the spring. It was just shop talk, but the kind of details Daine loved and missed. So much of her work now was spying, or riding out to reports of dangerous immortals. None of it was the simple joy of horses. </p><p>It was nearly dark by the time she made it back to the palace, dodging pages rushing back to their rooms and servants carrying laundry, clerks with rolls of paper and soldiers and riders of every type. She collected enough food for a kind of dinner from the serving hall, certain Numair would have forgotten to eat. They both ate at odd hours, and Daine sometimes when she was in animal form, but if she didn’t remind him, he’d easily reach midnight before he realised he was hungry. </p><p>“Have you eaten at all?” she said, pushing open the door to their rooms. She didn’t bother with a greeting. Numair in the middle of a spell or reading could tune out everything but direct questions. </p><p>“Hmm?” Numair said, looking up from where he was scratching a pen at some notes, a candle at his elbow burning a strange colour, streaks of black fire running down its side. </p><p>“Experiments over,” she said. “Time to eat.” She held up the bowls of stew she’d brought up carefully tucked in the curve of one arm. </p><p>“Oh, yes,” Numair said, sitting up and stretching, his back audibly cracking. “I’m starving.” </p><p>“I thought so,” she said, putting the food in front of him, avoiding his notes. </p><p>They both ate in silence, hungry after different long days, and then Numair stacked up their dishes on a tray by the door, for the servants who came and tidied. Daine was already undressing, tired and thinking of her future days ahead; animals that needed checking on, promises she had made to speak to unruly horses or fretful pets, requests from the crown for her talents. She didn’t envy Thayet her lovers. She didn’t think she’d have the <i>time</i>. </p><p>She jumped slightly when she felt Numair’s cold hand at her side, and then relaxed into it when he leaned down to kiss the back of her neck.</p><p>“How was your day?” he asked in a low voice, lifting her hair out of the way of his kisses. </p><p>“Good,” Daine said, shivering in pleasure at the feeling. She didn’t think she had the energy for love-making that night, but even the feeling without any promise was fun. “Thayet is trying to set Buri up still.”</p><p>Numair chuckled a little under his breath. </p><p>“I’m sure that’s going well,” he said. Daine stepped out of her breeches, letting them pool on the floor carelessly. Neither of them were tidy-minded naturally. </p><p>“Buri’s crumbling,” she said, climbing into bed, pulling the covers up over her. “Come to bed, it’s late.”</p><p>“I think I was asking you to come to bed this morning,” Numair said, but stood back from the bed to pull off his shirt and throw the rest of his clothes over their dressing rack, still hung with the odds of previous days dressing. </p><p>Daine sighed and reached out, reeling him in until he had to put a knee on the bed, and, then, lie down next to her. She smoothed the hair of one of his eyebrows, feeling the roughness of the hair and the smoothness of his skin underneath. She was sometimes taken by surprise at the lucky turns of her life, of the gifts she had been given, but always most so by the sight of Numair in her arms. A gift she had not looked for, but had found in her hands anyway. </p><p>“Thayet wanted to know if we’re getting married,” she said, and Numair raised an eyebrow.</p><p>“Are we?” he said, propping himself up on his elbow to look down at her fondly. “You’re welcome to make me an honest man.”</p><p>Daine smiled. </p><p>“I don’t think even a marriage would do that,” she said, and Numair snorted. She paused, and then said more seriously, “I don’t think we need it, you know. It couldn’t make me love you more.”</p><p>Numair’s expression was serious when he looked down at her. </p><p>“I feel the same my dear,” he said gently. “But if you wanted to, I’d say yes.”</p><p>“I know,” she said, and they kissed gently, warm in each other's arms, as soft and gentle as slowly falling asleep. </p><p>When they pulled apart, Daine smiled up at him, wanting to lighten the mood. </p><p>“Thayet’s also saying Buri should just find a lover,” she said. “You know, when I first came to the palace, I would have been scandalised by all this talk of lovers.”</p><p>Numair laughed, and kissed her nose. </p><p>“We’ll make a libertine of you yet,” he said fondly. She scrunched up her face. </p><p>“I don’t know what that means,” she said, and Numair leaned back, thinking about it. </p><p>“Well, a libertine’s what <i>I</i> was when I first came to the palace, I suppose. Libertines indulge themselves, take multiple lovers, that kind of thing,” he said, in the familiar voice he used when he was explaining something. Daine ran her fingers over his chest, feeling the roughness of his chest hair against her fingers, her favorite thing to do when they lay in bed together. </p><p>“Do you want to have multiple lovers?” she asked seriously. She meant it. Thayet and Jon seemed to manage fine with it, and she didn’t feel any judgement about it. It seemed a more sensible way of carrying on than not talking about it and being upset with each other, like she’d seen at home in Galla. Numair looked at her, like he was trying to figure out if she was joking. </p><p>“I don’t know how we’d find the time,” he said evenly, and Daine smiled. </p><p>“I’m really asking,” she said, and shrugged. “If we’re doing it right, we should be together for a long time.” She looked down at her fingers on his chest. “I don’t think detours mean we aren’t going the same way.”</p><p>“I’m not opposed,” Numair said, after a moment of quiet. “But I don’t think the idea appeals at the moment. Does it? For you?” </p><p>Daine shrugged. </p><p>“Not particularly,” she said. “I was wondering.”</p><p>“You know, people might judge,” Numair said quietly. Daine looked up at him, quirking an eyebrow. </p><p>“They already do,” she said, looking pointedly down at their intertwined bodies. “I’m not worried. Our friends understand. I don’t think it’s anyone else's business, to be quite frank.”</p><p>Numair’s smile was small and private, something she felt like only she had seen. He kissed her forehead. </p><p>“A very noble sentiment, my dear,” he said. She snuggled into his chest, kissing his collarbone. </p><p>“It’s late,” she said, after a long moment of silence, both of them matching the other's breaths. Numair gestured with a hand and there was a loud whoosh and the candles extinguished. The shutters rattled in their frames, and she heard at least one book fall to the floor, knocked over by the force of magic. She laughed against his chest, and could feel Numair’s laugh shaking through his body, both of them wrapped around each other, warm and content.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>from <b>Testimonial</b></p><p>As if I craved error, as if love were ahistorical,<br/>I came to live in a country not at first my own<br/>and here came to love a man not stopped by reticence.</p><p>And because it seemed right<br/>love of this man would look like freedom,</p><p>the lone expanse of his back<br/>would be found land, I turned,</p><p>as a brown field turns, suddenly grown green,<br/>for this was the marriage waited for: the man<br/>desiring as I, movement toward mindful and yet.</p><p>It was June, brilliant. The sun higher than God.</p><p>  <i>Claudia Rankine (1998)</i></p></blockquote></div></div>
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